Page 5 of A Virgin for His Grace
"You will have complete autonomy in matters relating to Livia's social education and daily routine," Devon began, his tone becoming more businesslike. "The household staff has been instructed to defer to your judgment in all things concerning my sister's welfare. Mrs. Henderson, the housekeeper, will provide you with whatever assistance you require."
Arabella nodded, grateful for this evidence that she would not be treated as merely another servant. "And Lady Livia herself? What manner of young woman might I expect to encounter?"
Devon's expression softened almost imperceptibly. "Shy to the point of being a recluse, I fear. She has had little experience with society, having spent most of her life in the country with our aunt. The idea of a London Season fills her with considerable trepidation."
"I see." Arabella found herself intrigued despite her determination to maintain professional distance. "And her age?"
"Eighteen, though in many ways she seems younger. She has been... protected from the harsher realities of life." Devon's jaw tightened slightly, and Arabella sensed there were depths to this story that he did not intend to share.
"Very well. I shall endeavour to ease her transition intosociety as gently as possible." Arabella paused, then steeled herself to ask the question that had been weighing upon her mind. "And what of my own position? How am I to be presented to your acquaintances?"
Devon leaned back in his chair, studying her with an intensity that made her feel uncomfortably exposed. "As Lady Livia's companion and friend, naturally. You are a gentleman's daughter fallen upon temporarily reduced circumstances, a perfectly respectable situation that will excite no particular comment."
The casual dismissal of her family's disgrace stung more than Arabella cared to admit. "How kind of you to minimize the scandal you created."
"I created?" Devon's voice sharpened with sudden interest. "Miss Arabella, I was not the one who chose to enter that folly uninvited, nor was I the one who remained when discovery became inevitable."
Arabella felt her cheeks burn with indignation. "I entered to protect my sister from your unwelcome advances, and I remained because you... because you..." She faltered, unwilling to admit how completely his proximity had undermined her usual good sense.
"Because I what?" Devon prompted, rising from his chair to move closer to hers. "Because I made you forget, for just a moment, all those rigid rules you use to govern your life?"
"You made me forget nothing," Arabella snapped, though her breathing had grown shallow as he approached. "Yourbehaviour was unconscionable, and the fact that I did not immediately flee was merely due to shock at your presumption."
Devon's smile was knowing and altogether too attractive for her peace of mind. "Was it indeed? How fascinating that shock should manifest itself in such a... responsive manner."
Before Arabella could formulate a suitable retort, the study door opened with a soft creak, and a young woman appeared hesitantly upon the threshold. She was petite and ethereally lovely, with Devon's dark eyes and hair so pale it was nearly silver. Her gown of ice-blue muslin was exquisitely cut but somehow made her appear younger rather than older, like a child playing dress-up in adult clothing.
"Devon?" Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Forgive me, I did not realise you were engaged."
"Not at all, dearest," Devon said warmly, his entire demeanor transforming as he moved toward his sister. "Livia, allow me to present Miss Arabella Greystone, who has most graciously agreed to serve as your companion during the Season."
Lady Livia's enormous dark eyes fixed upon Arabella with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. "Miss Greystone. How... how do you do?"
Arabella rose from her chair, immediately struck by the young woman's fragile beauty and obvious nervousness. All her protective instincts, the same ones that had led her into that disastrous encounter with Devon, came rushing to the fore.
"I am very well indeed, Lady Livia," she said gently, offering a warm smile. "And I am delighted to make your acquaintance. I do hope we shall become great friends."
Livia's answering smile was like sunshine breaking through storm clouds. "Oh, do you think we might? I have had so few friends, and the thought of navigating London society quite terrifies me."
"Then we shall face it together," Arabella said decisively. "I may not be the most conventional of companions, but I promise you shall never want for support or encouragement whilst I am here."
Devon watched this exchange with something that might have been relief flickering across his aristocratic features. "Excellent. Then perhaps Livia might show you to your chambers, Miss Greystone? I believe Mrs. Henderson has prepared the blue suite for your use."
"The blue suite?" Livia's eyes widened with surprise. "But Devon, that is one of the family chambers. Surely Miss Greystone would be more comfortable in the companion's quarters."
"Miss Greystone is not an ordinary companion," Devon interrupted smoothly, his gaze meeting Arabella's with an expression she could not quite decipher. "She is to be accorded every courtesy due to an honoured guest."
Arabella felt a flush of gratitude despite her determination to remain unmoved by his gestures. The distinction between servant and guest was crucial in maintaining what remained ofher dignity, and she had not expected him to be so considerate of her sensibilities.
"Thank you, Your Grace," she murmured. "Your kindness is most appreciated."
"It is nothing more than you deserve," he replied, and for a moment, his formal mask slipped enough to reveal something almost tender in his dark eyes. "I trust you will find everything to your satisfaction."
Livia moved forward with sudden animation, clearly delighted by the prospect of feminine companionship. "Oh, Miss Greystone, you must see the view from your sitting room! It overlooks the garden, and in spring the roses are simply divine. And there is a lovely writing desk by the window where you might attend to your correspondence..."
As the young woman chattered excitedly about the amenities Arabella might expect to enjoy, Devon found himself studying his sister's new companion with growing fascination. Gone was the rigid composure she had maintained throughout their business discussion, replaced by genuine warmth as she responded to Livia's enthusiasm. This, he realized, was the woman who had won the hearts of three separate suitors, not through artificial charm or calculated coquetry, but through authentic kindness and strength of character.
"Miss Greystone," he said suddenly, interrupting Livia's enthusiastic monologue about the adequacy of the bed linens. "There is one final matter we must discuss."
